


Easier Than Breaking a Scientist's Mind

by Harlequinade



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harlequinade/pseuds/Harlequinade
Summary: There's a simple family, and then there's a simple man, who thinks that he can change them just by breaking them apart.





	

_“No!”_ Izzy’s eyes shot open, the scream still ringing in her ears. She lay perfectly still, wondering whether she had actually screamed aloud or whether she had just dreamed that she was screaming. Izzy couldn’t hear anyone’s footsteps on the stairs, no one coming to check what that noise was. Just a dream then.

She couldn’t even remember what it was about, but her heart was thumping in her ears and the dark was scarier than whatever was out there, so she tiptoed out and looked around the corner. The light in the living room, downstairs, was on.

Daddy was probably still awake - Izzy thought privately he never slept. She thought once she’d caught him sleeping, but he’d opened his eyes and lunged at her so quickly that Izzy had screamed and started crying. It had only been a prank, Daddy’d said, wasn’t it funny that he’d startled Izzy so much? Izzy hadn’t thought it was very funny, sitting on the ground trying to recover from her panic attack.

“Daddy?” Izzy peeked around the corner. He was sitting on the couch, fiddling with one of his knives.

He seemed to frown for a just a moment, but smiled as soon as he looked up. “Hey, baby doll.”

“I had a bad dream,” Izzy whispered. “Can I sit with you for a bit?”

“Sure, dollface,” Izzy’s dad moved over and put his arm out, curling it protectively around Izzy when she leaned against him.

“What was your dream?”

“I don’t remember what it was, exactly,” Izzy murmured, eyes closed. Her father’s breaths were shallow, barely moving her head up and down with each inhale. His hand was hot, almost burning where it touched her bare shoulder and Izzy shifted uncomfortably, trying to move it somewhere else so it wouldn’t be touching her skin.

“But I think someone was trying to hurt me. They got into the house and I was running, but I couldn’t get away. I felt helpless…” Izzy trailed off, not knowing how to voice the fear in such a dream. “It was a lot scarier than I thought it’d be.”

“Well, you’re safe now,” her father squeezed her closer to him. “No one’s going to get you while I’m here.”

Izzy smiled softly, though the words brought no real comfort. Being here, with her father, suddenly seemed a whole lot scarier than being alone upstairs.

* * *

“Morning, Daddy,” Izzy gave her dad a kiss on the cheek as she blew past him into the kitchen.

“Mornin’, baby doll,” Izzy’s father barely spared her a glance from his work. Tilting his head, he gave a precise, thin slice to the side of his project.

“Mama’s gonna be mad at you for workin’ in the dining room again,” Izzy picked up an orange and spun it in her hands. “She doesn’t like cleanin’ it up afterwards.”

“Well, then, you and I will just have to make sure there’s no mess, right?” Izzy’s dad gave a friendly slap to the side of the man’s face, who jumped in startled pain.

Izzy tilted her head, staring at the man. Daddy liked to call people like this man his ‘projects’. In some way or the other, they had done something to make Daddy mad, and now they were paying for it. This man was breathing heavily through his nose, eyes flickering between her and her father. His breathing quickened even more as Izzy pulled a chair around and sat cross legged, contemplatively eating her orange and watching silently.

“Who’s he, Daddy?”

“Oh, just someone who couldn’t. Follow. Orders,” with every word, her father gave another small slap to the man’s face, where it was all sliced up from his knife.

“I didn’t-” The man started, wincing as Izzy’s dad left another long slice across his face. “I tried to stop them.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did,” Izzy’s dad nodded as if sympathizing with him for a moment. “But the problem is, I don’t. Like. Tryers,” this time, instead of a slap, another knife slash accompanied the punctuated words.

Izzy caught a glimpse of her dad’s face and her heart almost stopped. She dropped her orange with a thump, stumbling back towards the wall.

Her father looked away from his project. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

Izzy gulped, shaking her head shakily. “N-nothing. It was just a seed in that,” she bumped the orange with her bare toe and smiled. “Bitter.”

Her father’s face was a picture of confusion, but he nodded slowly. Izzy fixed her face into a better smile before fleeing back to her bedroom and slamming the door.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed her forehead against the door and closed her eyes. _What the hell was that?_

* * *

“Baby?” Izzy’s mother’s voice was muffled from beyond the door. “You gonna come out an’ eat dinner with me an’ your father?”

Izzy hesitated. It had been almost a week since the first panic attack she’d had in the dining room. Strange thing was, she had no idea what was causing it. One minute Izzy would be fine, then the next she would be in the corner trying not to throw up in her anxiety. But… the main living area seemed to make it worse.

“I’m okay, Mama,” Izzy called. “I’ll get something later.”

For a moment, her mother didn’t reply. Then the door quietly clicked open and Izzy felt a shift of weight on her bed as her mother sat down next to her.

“Is something wrong?” Izzy’s mom asked gently. “You’ve never wanted to skip dinner before…”

“Mom, I’m okay,” Izzy took a deep breath and smiled reassuringly at her mom. “Just some anxiety attacks, that’s all.”

“You want me to go getcha something?”

“Naw, I’m good,” Izzy shrugged off the suggestion. “I’m just not gonna go downstairs for a bit. It’s the worst down there.”

“Well, okay…” Izzy’s mom patted her knee gently and stood. “Remember, I’m always here if you need me.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

It never even occurred to Izzy until much later her mother hadn’t even asked her why downstairs made her so scared.


End file.
